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    JamesSavik
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Summer Job - 75. Lock In Friday

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Judge Anthony Drummond and the interim county director of CPS Amos Weatherford, the two newest board members of the Lost Boys Trust, arrived at the Farmer House just after four. The contractors who were repairing the damage were just putting away their tools and equipment to knock off for the weekend.

They had made remarkable progress. The rubbish from the collapsed walls and rooms had been removed to dumpsters waiting at the curb to be collected. Framing was up and was already covered with Tyvek. Three big pallets of bricks were lined up in the yard waiting to restore the collapsed wall.

Wally Garner met them at the curve and said, “Come on in. We’re just showing our potential housemothers around.”

Mrs. Green, Chris Butler and Mrs. Cummings were following Miles Dannager and Jens Van Houten around the first floor. It was a big, rambling house. Even though it had been the home of a confirmed bachelor, it was comfortable, homey and even tasteful.

Seeing the building after hearing the house had been blown up was a shock. The damage had been limited and did not compromise the structural integrity of the building. The only damage outside the immediate area was some discoloration of concrete caused by heat transfer from the Thermite.

Mrs. Cummings said, “This is an impressive offer. A salary better than what I’m making now plus benefits? What is the catch?”

Amos Weatherford spoke up and said, “I think I can answer that one. An adult needs to be here all the times. Half the problems the kids we will send your way come from a lack of supervision and neglect.”

Miles Dannager said, “We don’t mind if you continue to work if you can schedule your work so that at least one of you will be here at all times.”

Rochelle took Chris Butler’s hand and said, “I can work from home with my new job. What if we were to marry?”

Amos Weatherford said, “The house would certainly benefit from having a police detective on site.”

She looked at Butler and said, “I do. I mean, I’m in.”

 

 

The Friday of the Lock-In was a hurricane of activity for Phillip and his crew. Planning had been going on all week but, it was time to execute. Thankfully, he was augmented by Patrick McGraw, Adam Hendrix and Brice Turnipseed who were going to stay and help.

Despite asking for ten dollars a head, almost a hundred kids were signed up, and all of Phillip’s pals. They had all brought a change of clothes, swimsuit, towel and a sleeping bag.

Phillip had several things to plan: feeding a hundred kids, having a special dinner for the new foster parents and guests, a snack and activities to keep the boys busy and out of too much mischief.

After lunch, Casey, Kelly and Billy Jackson had taken over in the kitchen. Mr. Campbell had pulled a huge charcoal grill out of storage and set it up for Phillip and company to grill burgers, hot dogs and other items. It was loaded up with charcoal and lit at four o’clock, so it would be ready to grill at the appropriate time.

Rodney Jefferson was back. He wasn’t going to miss this. He and Tanner kept each other occupied, and thankfully, out from underfoot.

Phillip was glad for the help from his kids. The Barracudas were all willing to help and got their wish. After a quick trip to a farmer’s market and a seafood shop, they had a lot of corn to shuck, tomatoes and onions to cut and burger patties to make.

Casey had a different menu for the adults— scallops in butter, garlic and herbs and chicken Alfredo. He might have been showing off. He was making a special cake, and the bread he had in the oven smelled so good it incited Phillip’s stomach to growl like a bear.

 

 

Phillip’s minions began the process at four-thirty. Most of the kids that would be staying for the lock in were already on the premises. They were broken into groups for games and assorted fun. A four-on-four basketball tourney had already begun and would continue for hours.

It was the adults who had to be handled. They started arriving in ones and twos around five and were escorted to the staff lounge. By a little after five, all the members of the Lost Boy’s Trust and the new foster parents arrived.

Seth, wearing an apron, guided Judge Drummond and Amos Weatherford to the table with the rest of the members. The staff lounge had been cleaned, shined and looked like an Italian restaurant right down to the red and white tablecloths.

When they were all seated, Seth took out a small pad and said, “For our main course, we have grilled scallops in a butter and herb sauce and chicken Alfredo. We also have a side salad with a choice of vinaigrette, Thousand Island or Ranch dressing. We have sweet tea, unsweetened tea and water. What can I get for you gentlemen?”

Stunned at the selection, most of their guest took the scallops. Only a few people with seafood allergies went for the chicken Alfredo.

The drinks and salads came out first. A few minutes later the main course arrived.

The mark of a truly excellent meal is that it kills conversation. People are too busy eating it to talk.

When Judge Drummond finished, he sat back in his chair and said, “I’ve been to some fancy restaurants in my time that weren’t as good as this.”

Jens Van Houten said, “Someone in Phillip’s band is a very talented chef. This was a remarkable meal.”

Seeing them finish, Seth arrived and said, “We have dessert. Would any of you like coffee?”

Several of the men at the table had coffee with a slice of the tiramisu Casey had prepared.

The Judge asked Seth, “Could we meet the chef? This was spectacular?”

When Casey, Kelly and Billy came out of the kitchen, Judge Drummond’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

 

 

While the adults were being treated to Casey’s culinary magic, Phillip was busy grilling for the kids. That was a hot, smoky job, but the results were satisfactory to a bunch of hungry boys. The burgers and hot dogs that came off the grill hit the spot.

By six, they were all fed, and Phillip had a chance to sit down and eat with his crew in the staff lounge. Casey had prepared two main courses with malice and forethought. Everyone had a salad, chicken Alfredo, fresh baked bread and an insanely delicious slice of tiramisu.

Once they had eaten and the dishwasher was running, Phillip locked the doors and said in a strong voice that carried, “Let the games begin.”

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Copyright © 2021 jamessavik; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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